In television, vintage years occur only once in a blue moon (1957, 1958 1961, 1964-66), and this ain’t one of ’em. No Sgt. Bilko, no The Untouchables, no Naked City. For TV ADDICTS everywhere (six to eight hours of viewing per day... minimum), it’s gonna be a dismal season. For weeks prior to September’s disappointment, the boob tube beamed forth rays of hope (“you’re gonna like it a lpt” and “sbperseason”) until fotal mindrot set in. Subliminal cuts were effectively used to twist the TV moron into watching Matt Helm (a fate worse than nodding off to Name of the Came). The word was out: WATCH THESE SHOWS QUICK CUZ NEXT WEEK THEY COULD BE REPLACED BY HEE-HAW.

A transfusion might put a f,ew sparks into this year’s set-up (overlooking a complete overhaul). But the best thing to do with television when it’s so messed up is to LEAVE IT. Any fool knows that it takes 6-10 episodes of a series to officially announce its life or death (assuming it ain’t Fay, ten minutes of which is enough to prounce it D.O. A.), and sometimes even duds can trick ya. Originally M*A *S*H* crept into success when nobody was watching, whereas Paul Sand stiffed while everybody raved.

Anyway, here’s a very brief guide as to what you should be tuning in this season (if you’re not blind, you probably already know all this by now). Also, what to tune out:

SATURDAY MORNING: Syd and Marty Krofft strike again! It’s a close, fight between the Far Out Space Nuts (Bob Denver returns as a retard accompanied by a creature called Honk) and Lost Saucer (Ruth Buzzi and Jim Nabors as Fi and Fum posing as androids wreaking havoc in the universe). Each show is a mirror of the other. The Kroffts have cornered the kiddie market ever since H. R. Pufnstuf hit the racks, but this duplication is obscene. If it weren’t for the terrible cartoons (more pathetic than the Nutty Squirrels), I’d watch Charles Nelson Reilly (ex-Lidsuille superstar) on Uncle Croc’s Block (Rabbit Ears even has a TV set in his stomach — real crass!). Frankly, I’m rooting for Ghost Busters, which has Forrest Tucker and Larry Storch (F Troop weirdos) chasing ghosts with lotsa swell sight gags. But, I’d really hate to be under twelve and have to put up with this garbage. Bring back George of the Jungle!

SATURDAY NIGHT: The wisest move here would be to start the evening off fresh with a little Howard Cosell. The assumption is that this show is “live” so it can’t miss. True enough, but Howard is no Jimmy Durante (he might pass for an Ed Sullivan but who needs that) . The show will fumble through a year, tho, simply because it is a novelty. Cosell promises a surprise every week (Rip Taylor .eating a dead rat, Wayne Newton throwing up) so it’s worth a shot. Besides, it’s opposite The Jeffersons, which not only smells since Lionel left -(the original) but also George J.’s arrogance gets tiresome after a year. Doc conflicts with Cosell Live, but Prof. Irwin Corey is such a letdown in this series that I would advise never watching it (nope, he don’t piss on nobody or nuttin’ like he does on Merv Griffin).

That old reliable, the Mary Tyler Moore Show, is losing its fast pace; it should now kick the bucket peacefully and be rushed immediately into syndication. On the other hand, Bob Newhart remains the absolute best sitcom on the tube; it’s never hit-ot-miss but consistently has quick lines and, it seems, loads of new characters every week. After this, Carol Burnett Show is

a safe bet for all you Tim Conway fans. The only other choice is Matt Helm, starring Tony Franciosa as the only living example of an Italian Jack LaLanne. Bleeeeech!!

SUNDAY: Family viewing is for the birds. Day of rest. No TV tonight. Irwin Allen’s Swiss Family Robinson is kiddie crap with the fun extracted, and Cher bombs cause without Sonny she’s just skin and bones. And Kojak deserves a raspberry for running itself into the ground. And those NBC Mystery Movies all merge into a video blob indistinguishable from ABC’s Wide World Crumpiy Specials (late night speed). Sunday stinks!

MONDAY: Do not watch The Invisible Man (originally conceived in 1958 and flopped then, too). Do not watch Barbary Coast (The Wild, Wild West meets Star Trek). Watch Rhbda instead. The Carlton-the-Doorman jokes are a drag, but th,e slob appeal is four stars. The characters on Rhoda haven’t gotten quite as stale as those on MTM (yet), and the whole design refuses to project didacticism like its parent show. But Phyllis (nepotism on TV has gotta stop!) is (as Rhoda says) “thepits.” Boy, Cloris Leachman is dull. Empty. Completely lifeless.

Phyllis was only a tidbit whenever she popped on MTM, and on her own show, she remains an undeveloped ZERO. Relief is in sight, thp, as All in the Family once again rears its head. For those who are not fans of the series, Sally Struthers always has her knockers up. And speaking of boobs, Maude fanatics will be sorry to learn that this series is finished. Walter and Maude keep battling out the old issues, punctuated by the usual hackneyed Women’s Lib chants. Ms. Naugatuck remains true to form as the adorable alkie; but it’s Ms. Barbeau’s BAZOOMS that hold the show together. Nothing else on Monday nights.

TUESDAY: Happy Days (the first year) can now be seen every weekday morning so why watch the new cruddy episodes at night. Fonzie has moved in with the Cunninghams so it’s all goody-goody and washed out now. Movin’ On is about trucks (never • watched this one) and should be avoided at all costs. Good Times has that asshole Jimmie Walker. Welcome Back, Kotter follows suit by depending upon a stand-up comedian to overcome bad writing (Gabriel Kaplan in an imitation Room 222). Joe and Sons will last six minutes cuz it’s about a fatman and his innocuous kids (the My Three Sons syndrome).

Police Story .finally has begun to parody itself. Realistic cop shows have bitten the dust (extinct genre), and no more seedy violence so who cares. Joe Forrester is a spin-off from Police Story; consequently, its style is two years behind. Therefore, on Tuesday, only Beacon Hill rules. This ain’t no watered-down Upstairs, Downstairs!This is sleaze, and it’s as coherent as Peyton Place. Girls run rampant, bizarre murders in the basement, incest in the bedrooms. Any comparisons to Up-Down are purely hypothetical: THIS SHOW HAS NO CLASS unlike its British “equivalent.” It’s the best dramatic series on the tube, at present.

WEDNESDAY: When Things Were Rotten kills the evening. Nothing^else after this can possibly satisfy. Baretta is too kook (unless you like macho swellheads), and Cannon is a fatso Mannix. Starsky and Hutch, Kate McShane, and Petrocelli cannot be watched because they have crummy titles. Mel Brooks’ When Things Were Rotten has so much going on at once that it almost is not TV. Basically, the show lies between Get Smart and Blazing Saddles. Character combinations and permutations are primaVily the secret to the show’s success (aesthetically). It’s a real thrill to have this sorta TV comedy-fantasy as opposed to the usual brand of family sit-coms,. Kinda reminds me of 1966 (the year of Batman, The Monkees, \ The Avengers, Dark Shado ws, The Green Hornet, It’s About Time, Mission: Impossible, Supermarket Sweepstakes, and other great TV fantasies). Hope if sets a trend.

THURSDAY: The Montefuscos is not as mindless as it sounds. The Italian ethnic jokes don’t run dry, and it’s virtually the first sit-com that is perfectly cyclic. It always ends at the beginning. This series is strickly a fluke and will undoubtedly be cancelled cuz of its ambiguous nature (wants to be like All In the Family but ends up being like the Paul Lynde Show). Besides which you should watch Barney Miller (which competes) instead because it’s got gobs of slapstick, burlesque and vaudeville elements rootie-kazooting around in it. Fay is so bad (mimics Julia and Diana) you’ll konk out at 8:30 unless you switch to On the Rocks. This is Hogan s Heroes transplanted'into a prison setting with every dumb character in the book. In fact, it’s dumb enough that dummies like you will get hooked (has that sloppy Sanford and Son appeal).

Ellery Queen can only be classifed as the most polished show this year. Every week a bundle of big name celebs pose as possible suspects for Queen’s detective mind. The weak spot is that the audience is supposed to solve the mystery along with Ellery Queen (like on Perry Mason), but its strong point is the collection of stars every week (kinda like Burke’s Law). The setting is New York City during the contented post-war forties, and that’s half the charm too. GRADE A!!

Harry O rounds cut the evening. Same as usual with that tiresome first-person narrator linking Orwell’s constant stumbling. But it’s a good show cause Harry never gets over-excited about anything. Harry O soothes.

FRIDAY: Ah, Sanford and Son. Redd Foxx has become the black Phil Silvers. Never miss it \M*A*S*H* still has Hawkeye and Radar, but that’s about it. You just can’t switch charac^ ters in midstream. Then, James Garner in The Rockford Files completes yer week of TV viewing. This is the kinda blend of humor with detective fiction that Starsky and Hutch just ain’t gonna capture. The Rockford Files is no pushover, but a strong contender that’ll be around for several more years.

Obviously , this is not the year to watch lotsa television. Of course, there’s always the syndicated re-runs, the lifeblood of television (like, if they weren’t showing I Spy, I’d probably, never even turn on the set). In addition, I couldn’t bring myself to even mention new syndicated series’ like bpace:

1999 (worse writing than on UFO) or Don Adam’s Screen Test (winners get to be in the next Fellini movie) cause they’re so abysmal. But what’s the difference:, only a handful of these new shows will last past mid-season. Which is okay by me. They can replace Medical Story with Bonanza or 8. W.A. T. with The Man From U:N.C.L.E. or any of em with Almost Anything Goes. I don’t give a goddamn. I’ll watch it.

Robot.A. Hull

Beaver

Cleaver:

The CREEM Interview

First it was Merrill Osmond. Then it was Sly Stone. Now another of our heroes is about to leave the world of Swinging Singles: Beaver Cldaver is getting married.

It’s true, folks. Jerry Mathers, who played Theodore Cleaver for some seven years on Leave It To Beaver in the early ’60’s, is engaged to a girl he . met while he was attending the University of California (and you thought he never made it out of Miss Landers’ class).

Jerry says he hasn’t seen much of the cast since the Beaver-}days. But, he said, there is no truth to the story that Eddie Haskell is now Alice Cooper. “Ken Osmond (Eddie) is a police officer in Los Angeles,” the Beaver explained.

As for the rest of the cast, Tony Dow (Wally, Beaver’s btother) now doing

TV commercials and other bit parts, is married and has a kid. Barbara Billingsly (June, Beaver’s mom) has been involved in charity work since the show went off. And Hugh Beaumont (their dad) has been ill in recent months, having suffered a stroke.

Beaver says they’ve all been invited to his wedding, and it will be like a reunion for him. “They’re all my friends, but when we were doing the show, we were professionals, just doing our job and going home at night.”

He says that although the show is being rerun every day all over the country , no one on the cast is getting any royalties. “I don’t even watch it anymore. It’s boring for me. My little brother likes it. And my mother, but I’m sick of it. I know exactly which scenes will follow which, and even the kind of shot that will be used.”

Jerry spent a few years in the Marines, which started rumors, a few years ago that he was killed in Viet Nam.

“One day it was in the newspaper, and people were stopping me on the street. My friends thought I had died.”

Now Jerry is looking for work. He got a degree in philosophy at U of C, but wants to do more in television, or some form of communications.

Though he’s been looking, the Beaver can’t find any acting work.

David Dee